


a catastrophic harmony

by LugianBeforeSwine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: College AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, brief mention of hunk/shay, rival TAs who totally don't have the hots for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 01:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13583229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LugianBeforeSwine/pseuds/LugianBeforeSwine
Summary: Lance and Keith are chosen to be Professor Shirogane's TAs for his Intro to Astronomy class, which means they're going to have to put their rivalry aside for an entire semester. Somewhere along the way, Keith learns how to cook, Lance commits a French-fry-related atrocity, and two extremely stubborn people learn to tolerate each other, and then some.





	a catastrophic harmony

With his back straight, arms crossed, and face set in a hard frown, Keith looks about as formidable as it is possible to be given that he’s sharing this closet-sized room with two other people and had previously been sipping from a mug with the words “#1 Cat Dad” printed on it.

“Uhh…do you two know each other?” the tall man behind the desk asks.

“Yes,” Keith and the annoying brunet sitting next to him say in tandem. The guy shoots Keith a glare, which he returns with just as much ferocity.

Their fiery eye contact breaks as the obnoxious guy turns to their new boss. “Listen, Professor Shirogane—”

“That’s wonderful!” the professor says, either completely unable to read the atmosphere in the tiny, stifling room, or doing a very good job of purposefully ignoring it. “That makes this much easier for all three of us. For formality’s sake, though—Lance, this is—”

“Keith Kogane,” Lance snarls. “The douchecanoe whose cumulative GPA is currently 0.02 points higher than mine. Somehow.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?” Keith growls.

“Umm,” the professor tries to interject.

“You heard me,” Lance says coolly, straightening up in his chair.

“Who the _hell_ even uses that term—”

“People who are cooler than you could ever hope to be—”

“Okay!” Professor Shirogane yells, slamming a fist down on his desk. Keith and Lance both jump. The #1 Cat Dad mug rattles. “If you two want to keep your newly-acquired jobs, you will shut up and listen to me right now.”

Lance audibly gulps. Keith folds his arms tighter and shrinks down a little in his chair.

Professor Shirogane smiles sunnily, glancing at each of them in turn. “As I was saying: Lance, this is Keith Kogane. Keith, this is Lance McClain. You two have been chosen—out of _many qualified applicants_ —to be my TAs for this semester’s Intro to Astronomy class. As I’m sure you can imagine, this will require the two of you to work together closely and cohesively with myself in order to make this class a success.”

“Professor Shirogane—” Lance blurts out.

“Call me Shiro,” he says, still smiling.

“Umm…Shiro,” Lance amends, then shoots a quick glare in Keith’s direction. “Keithy-boy here and I don’t really get along.”

“More like you’re completely intolerable,” Keith mutters.

“Excuse me,” Lance begins to retort, but Shiro cuts him off.

“Yes, I’ve noticed that. In the five minutes that we’ve been in my office, you both have managed to make that abundantly clear. However, that doesn’t change the fact that you two are the most accomplished students in the astrophysics program, and I’m confident that both of you will be able to make a significant positive impact on the minds of my students. _Your students_ ,” Shiro adds, smiling at each of them in turn. His smile begins to falter, though, as he continues. “If, however, you’re really going to have such a big problem working with each other, I will be forced to let one or both of you go, and it’s very late to be finding replacement TAs now.” He sighs deeply, shaking his head. “I wonder which one of you I would have to replace first…”

“Professor—Shiro,” Keith says awkwardly. “I assure you that I am perfectly capable of excelling in this position.”

Lance snorts. “I wonder what other _positions_ you’re capable of—”

“Lance,” Shiro says gently.

“Right. I…I promise I can manage to be civil to this guy, if only for the duration of this job.”

Keith shoots Lance a pointed glare. They both miss the smirk that Shiro hides behind his hand.

“Excellent,” Shiro says. “Now, let’s go over your objectives for recitations…”

-

“Hey, Mullet,” Lance says, plopping into a seat at Keith’s table in the cafeteria. Keith raises his eyebrows at him while he shoves a sandwich into his mouth.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asks after he swallows, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You can lay off the bad-boy loner act at any time,” Lance replies mildly, dumping a small dish of ranch dressing over his fries. “I know you have the leather jacket to match and everything, but seriously, all that shit should have stayed in the eighties.”

Keith misses every word that Lance says after he committed such an atrocity against nature itself. “What did you just do to your fries? What did they do to deserve that?”

Lance blinks a few times, looking from his hand, which holds a ranch-drenched fry, back to Keith, who looks as though Lance has just committed manslaughter right before his eyes. “Are you telling me you don’t dip your fries in ranch dressing?”

“Do I look like a _heathen_?!” Keith spits. “I dip them in ketchup, like a normal person!”

Lance shrugs, completely unconcerned. “Suit yourself. I’ll just be over here enjoying the world’s best French fry/dipping sauce combination.” He pops a smothered fry in his mouth, swallows it, and sighs in satisfaction. “Magnificent.”

“You disgust me,” Keith grumbles, returning to his sandwich. A silence falls over them for a couple minutes, and Keith is surprised at how not-weird it feels to be sitting here with Lance. Clearly they’ve been spending too much time together over the last three weeks in Shiro’s class. “Why’d you come sit with me, anyway?” Keith asks, breaking the silence.

Lance hums a little as he chews his food. “Why not? You looked bored.”

“I wasn’t bored. I was thinking. You should try it sometime.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Fine. I don’t like eating by myself, but if my presence is offending your delicate sensibilities so damn much, I’ll go sit somewhere else.”

“No, it’s fine,” Keith says. The words are out of his mouth before his brain has time to check them over.

Lance looks as surprised as Keith feels. “Oh. Okay, then.”

“I was just wondering,” Keith says quickly, averting his eyes, which is stupid, because it’s not like he’s afraid of Lance or something. “I’ve, uhh. I’ve never seen you in the caf before.”

“Yeah,” Lance says, “well, that’s because my roommate and I usually cook dinner. But he’s over at his girlfriend’s place tonight, and I didn’t feel like cooking. So…” He gestures at the room around him. “Here I am.”

“Ahh,” Keith says eloquently. Why does this conversation feel like it’s getting awkward? Maybe because Keith never thought he’d be making small talk with Lance McClain without wanting to rip Lance’s throat out in the process. “I’m, well. I’m not very good at cooking.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Lance says, laughing like he’s in on some big joke.

Keith’s mouth tightens. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Woah, woah, calm down,” Lance says, his hands up in what is probably supposed to be a placating gesture. “It’s not supposed to mean anything. You just don’t look like the cooking sort.”

How the hell is Keith supposed to interpret that? “Okay,” he says lamely, having no idea what a more appropriate response could be.

Lance cocks his head at him a little. “I could maybe teach you some basics. You know, if you wanted to learn.”

“What?” Keith says before he can stop himself. “Why would I want to learn how to cook from someone who drenches their fries in ranch?”

Lance stares at him for a long moment, his gaze locked onto Keith’s. Then he throws his head back and laughs like Keith just told the world’s funniest joke.

Something warm begins to unfurl in Keith’s chest, and he quickly snubs out the feeling before his brain has time to analyze it.

-

“I’m very proud of you two,” Shiro says, the snark in his tone practically tangible. “We’re officially a quarter of the way through the semester, and you haven’t killed each other yet.”

“Yet,” Lance repeats, shooting a cheeky grin at Keith. Keith averts his eyes and shakes his head, but neither Shiro nor Lance misses the tiny smile on his face.

“Anyway,” Shiro continues, “I wanted to ask how your office hours are going. How many students showed up for exam prep last week?”

They both think for a moment. “Between the two sessions, I’d say maybe fifty?” Lance says, glancing at Keith for affirmation.

“Mmm, I think you’re overestimating it a little. Probably more like forty,” Keith says.

“That’s it?” Shiro asks. “Wow. Either the material is too easy, or I managed to get 200 exceedingly intelligent students. Which,” he adds, “seems pretty unlikely.”

Lance laughs and Keith smiles a little. “Maybe they’re just average students who think they don’t need help,” Lance says. “They’re satisfied with their average scores.”

“Unlike someone who won’t relent until they get a 4.0?” Keith asks, smirking.

Lance puffs out his chest. “Precisely.” He points at Keith. “Not like you’re any different, Mullet.”

Keith’s smirk widens. “Besides the fact that my GPA is higher than yours.”

Lance nearly shoots out of his chair. “Barely!” he yells. “I’m gonna beat you this semester, I swear—”

Keith laughs. Lance cuts himself off mid-tirade and stares at him. It’s just not fair that someone like moody, volatile Keith should have such an adorable laugh.

After a few seconds, Keith catches Lance staring at him and quickly quiets down, bowing his head so his bangs fall over his eyes. Shiro watches them for a moment with a bemused smile on his face, then steers the conversation back to their office hours.

-

“—boiling. Keith! The water’s boiling!”

Keith’s eyes snap back to the pot of water on Lance’s stove, where large bubbles are indeed beginning to form. He scrambles to retrieve his box of pasta while Lance leans against the wall next to him, snickering.

“Where was your head at, Keithy-boy?” Lance says teasingly. “You gotta pay attention when you’re cooking. Distraction can mean disaster!”

“Yes, Master Chef,” Keith mumbles irritably. He was trying to be insulting, but Lance, of course, takes it as a compliment.

“You’re damn right I am. Compared to you, anyway.” Lance leans over and leers at him. Keith throws a piece of uncooked pasta at his face. “Rude!” Lance crows as the noodle bounces off his cheek.

Keith laughs quietly as he stirs the pasta. Lance disappears from his peripheral vision, and a moment later there’s a tug at his shirt collar and something is dropped down his back. “Lance!” Keith screeches as the dry noodle lodges itself in his waistband. He abandons his stirring to turn around and glare at Lance, who is giggling behind his hand.

“Payback,” Lance says simply, smiling widely. Keith tries to continue glaring, but he cracks a smile as he shakes out the back of his shirt, hearing the pasta drop to the linoleum.

“I thought you said there should be no distractions when you’re cooking,” Keith grumbles, picking up his spoon again.

“Ahh, very good,” Lance says, taking on the voice of some wise old sage as he resumes his place against the wall by the stove. He strokes an invisible beard, nodding. “That was a test. You have passed, my young Padawan.”

Keith scoffs, but there’s amusement behind the sound. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Star Wars.” Keith shakes his head. “Oh my God. I hope you’re not busy tonight, coz we’re gonna need about 13 hours for this…”

-

Midterm season is upon them, and Keith and Lance have taken to studying together nearly every day, although neither one has actually ever planned for this to happen. It just makes sense: they have to be together anyway in order to draft questions for the Intro to Astronomy midterm, and they’re in the same program with most of the same classes. Lance has the added burden of struggling through an environmental science class which fulfils a gen ed requirement that every student needs in order to graduate.

“It’s not that the material is difficult,” he complains to Keith the day before their midterms begin, “it’s just that there’s so much of it. It’s like they’re trying to cram two years’ worth of information into a single semester.” He lays his head down on his textbook as he sighs, and without even looking up from his own textbook, Keith absently rests his hand on Lance’s head, fingers curling just slightly into Lance’s hair.

Lance freezes under his touch. It takes a few seconds for Keith’s brain to catch up with what his body is doing, and when it does, he yanks his hand away hurriedly, feeling his cheeks begin to flush.

It feels like an eternity before Lance lifts his head to look at Keith. He looks shocked, Keith thinks, but not…offended. But why would he be offended? Keith was just trying to offer him some wordless comfort. Is that not something that friends did for each other? Wait, were they actually friends? They had been nothing but rivals for years, but spending so much time together had tricked Keith into thinking that maybe—

“Hey,” Lance says, startling Keith from his quickly derailing train of thought. Lance’s cheeks are a faint pink. Keith has no idea what to do, so he continues to stare helplessly at Lance through his bangs. “Umm, that was fine,” Lance says, his speech stilted. “It just, uhh. Surprised me a little.”

“Oh,” Keith says, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah,” Lance says. They hold each other’s gaze for a long moment, then turn simultaneously back to their textbooks.

The air between them is thick with tension, and Keith can only endure it for a few minutes before he stands up abruptly and starts gathering up his belongings, shoving them haphazardly into his backpack. “Well, I’m gonna head out,” he says, barely managing to sling his bag over his shoulder with his trembling hands. “Gotta get a good night’s sleep before the madness begins, right?” He tries for a smile. It comes out looking more like a grimace.

Lance’s face is blank. “…Right,” he says after a moment. Then, “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Keith calls over his shoulder, already booking it towards the exit. Then the door to the lecture hall closes behind him, and Lance is left alone in the huge, circular classroom, wondering why it feels like he just ruined something before it could even begin.

-

The following Friday sees them back in Shiro’s office, sitting uncomfortably close together in what had to be the world’s smallest room.

“Well, gentlemen,” Shiro begins, steepling his fingers on his desk as if he is about to share a piece of news that will forever change their lives, “you made it. Midterms are over, and you know what that means…” He trails off, clearly waiting for a smartass comment from one or both of them. When neither of them says anything, he frowns a little and continues. “It’s time for grading!”

Lance and Keith groan in unison. Shiro laughs mercilessly. “Come on, now, you didn’t honestly think I was gonna do it. This is what TAs are for!” He softens a little. “But of course, if you have any questions about what exactly constitutes a correct answer, you know where to find me.”

“Yeah, in your tiny, sweltering dungeon of doom,” Lance mutters. Keith snorts a laugh, then covers his mouth with his hand, surprised. Lance shoots him a slightly shaky grin.

“Well,” Shiro says, “you guys enjoy your weekend. After, you know, you finish grading the exams. Not that that shouldn’t be enjoyable!” He cackles to himself. “Aww, I’m kidding. You have until my lecture next Friday to get them back to me.”

“Thank the gods of academia for their mercy on this day,” Lance intones solemnly, and Keith laughs outright this time. Lance beams at him, and Keith doesn’t look away.

-

“Ta-da,” Keith says tonelessly, but he’s smiling wide as he sets plates down on Lance’s kitchen table. “Chicken parmesan, served on spaghetti and garnished with—”

“Love?” Lance interjects, batting his eyelashes at Keith from his place at the table.

“—basil,” Keith finishes, scowling at Lance.

Lance’s roommate, Hunk, who is sitting next to him at the table, laughs heartily. “You guys are hilarious,” he says.

Lance gives a dramatic bow. “We try.”

“He tries,” Keith amends, passing a plate of food to Hunk’s girlfriend, Shay, who sits opposite him. “I succeed.”

“Keith!” Lance cries, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me deeply!”

Keith smirks and shrugs one shoulder, settling into his place at the table.

“Hunk didn’t tell me there would be entertainment along with dinner,” Shay says, giggling.

Hunk laughs. “There’s never a dull moment with these two, that’s for sure.”

Lance catches Keith’s gaze across the table and smiles at him. Keith’s heart feels like it’s lodged in his throat. How is he supposed to eat like this? Speaking of eating, nobody has touched their food yet.

“I didn’t poison it,” Keith announces irritably.

Lance grins at him. “We’re just building up the suspense.”

“Making you sweat a little,” Hunk adds.

“Seeing how flustered you’ll get,” Lance says.

“Fuck you guys,” Keith says, viciously cutting into his chicken and spearing a piece on his fork. “I already know it’s delicious.” He pops the chicken into his mouth and is surprised at how right he is. Lance really is a good teacher, he admits privately.

The others at the table all laugh and dig in. Soon, everyone is complimenting Keith’s cooking, even Hunk, who is basically an actual Master Chef.

Lance’s smile is so bright it nearly blinds him. “I knew you could do it,” he says, and Keith’s face flushes entirely against his will.

-

Later that night, after Hunk and Shay have gone to bed, Lance lounges at the end of his couch while Keith sits a full cushion away, legs drawn up to his chest, pretending to be interested in the movie they’re ostensibly watching. Lance, admittedly, has found his eyes on Keith more often than the TV screen.

“Hey,” he says softly, turning the TV’s volume almost all the way down.

Keith startles a little, turning to him. “Huh?”

“Sorry, were you actually watching?”

Keith runs a hand through his hair. “Not really. Were you?”

“Not really.”

There’s a pause before Lance speaks again. “I know you were trying to hide it, but I could tell you were actually nervous about dinner. It was honestly fantastic, Keith.”

“Oh,” Keith says quietly, laughing a little. “You saw through me, huh?”

“Yeah, it was pretty obvious,” Lance says, goading him. It works: Keith reaches over to punch him and Lance deflects the blow, both of them laughing softly.

“I’m, umm. I’m really glad we ended up TA-ing together,” Lance says, swallowing noisily.

“Oh,” Keith says again, ducking his head a little. “Yeah. Me too.”

“We really went at each other for a while there, didn’t we?” Lance asks, huffing out a laugh at the memory.

Keith snorts. “You could say that again.”

Lance smirks at him. “We really went at each other for a while there, didn’t—”

“Okay!” Keith says in exasperation, grinning as he leans over to cover Lance’s mouth with his hand.

Lance’s heart is pounding. He feels like his chest is going to cave in on itself. He reaches up and grasps Keith’s hand at the wrist, keeping it pressed to his mouth.

Keith’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, but his eyes seem to light up. “Lance, what are you—”

Lance presses his lips firmly to Keith’s palm, looking over at him to make sure he understands that this was intentional, not an accident. If the look of startled amazement on Keith’s face is anything to go by, he definitely understands.

Before Lance loses his nerve, he moves Keith’s hand up and to the side so he can press another kiss to Keith’s wrist, over his pulse point. Keith shudders and Lance can feel his heartbeat speed up. It’s exhilarating, intoxicating. But he has to know…

“Keith?” he asks, almost sheepish despite his earlier actions. “I, uhh. Well, I like you, umm. Clearly. Do, uhh…do you—”

Before Lance can fully register what’s happening, Keith is suddenly right in front of him. He looks bashful, but so, so happy. “For fuck’s sake, Lance,” he says, smiling so hard his eyes crinkle at the corners, “of course I like you.”

“Oh thank God,” Lance breathes, and Keith cups Lance’s face in his hands and kisses him.

-

On the last day of the semester, Lance and Keith report to Shiro for a final time. The professor beams at them from behind stacks of paperwork on his desk.

“You two have done a phenomenal job,” he says. “I know the work wasn’t always easy, and the students weren’t always exactly eager to learn, but you truly are, as I believe today’s youth say, ‘killin’ the game.’”

Keith does a full-body cringe while Lance bursts into riotous laughter.

“Never say that again,” Keith says pleadingly.

“Never stop saying that,” Lance counters, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Anyway,” Shiro says, clapping his hands together loudly, “I would like to formally congratulate you on your hard work this semester…and ask if you would like to TA the class again next semester. What do you say?”

Lance and Keith look at each other, smiles on their faces. Keith nods, while Lance says, “Let’s learn them little bitches some stars.”

Keith bursts into laughter and reaches out toward Lance. Their fingers twine together, and Lance presses a kiss over the back of Keith’s hand.

Shiro smirks as he watches the two of them. “I fucking knew it,” he whispers.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Beach Weather's "Someone's Disaster."
> 
> Say hi to me on [tumblr](http://www.deadpan-snarker.tumblr.com) if you'd like :)


End file.
